Beside the Dying Light
by Pudor
Summary: In a world were the undead out number the living, Danny struggles to keep his family safe and to hold onto his humanity. Please R/R.
1. Chapter 1

_Beep beep beep beep_.

The day started like any other day. My alarm clock went off early to wake me up before anyone else. Rolling out of bed, my back protested in a truly painful fashion as I attempted to stand straight. _Thirty-three going on sixty_, I thought, or at least tried to while shambling my way towards the bedroom door. At three forty-five in the morning, its sheer force of will, and more than a little luck, that helps me find my way in the darkened room.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the shapes of my wife and four year old son snoozing peacefully. Opening the bedroom door, my path to the television was slowed by a minefield of toys. Unable to find the remote, I slid my hand along the side of the set and pressed the 'Power' button. Making my way back through the warzone, I flopped onto the nearby couch and settled in as the local news came on.

"We have some Late Breaking News to report this morning. Seemingly overnight the city of New York seems to be gripped in chaos as a growing number of people are committing apparent random acts of violence. City officials stated that the police are doing their best to maintain order but declined further comment. Also this morning, police in Fort Smith responded to a 911 call, reporting that woman had attacked her family in a neighbor's yard and then charged when called upon to stop. According to eyewitness accounts, police were forced to shoot the woman multiple times after she refused to surrender to…"

Rising to my feet, my back was already starting to feel better as I moved across the room. Turning off the television, I muttered, "It's too early for death and violence." Slowly putting my hands high above my head, my back protested with increasing pain and tightness until it finally popped. That pop was instantly followed by a wave of relief.

One of my wife's cats came around the corner and set a collision course with my shins. Halfheartedly kicking a foot at the cat's head, I growled, "Get away from me animal. It's too early for you, too." With a flick of his tail, the cat never missed a step as he turned away. Almost like it was what he meant to do the whole time.

Roughly scrubbing my face, I set off to start my morning routine.

Hours later we were slowly making our way through Farmington after having picked up our son from preschool. Now when I say slowly, I mean slowly. The local cops could be true fascists when it came to going over the speed limit at all. But that wasn't a problem today. Evidently the police and other emergency services had their hands full today. People were going around just randomly attacking others with their bare hands.

In fact, the elementary school that my boy went to had been placed in lock down for a few hours. A man had wandered onto the school yard during recess and assaulted some of the kids. From what I heard it took the Principle, Vice Principle, and P.E. teacher to pull the guy off of one of the kids and restrain him until the authorities showed up and took him away. The child who had been attacked was taken to a nearby hospital to treat the bites wounds that jackass had given him.

While my son had been none the wiser about the attack during recess, my wife Michelle had been fairly shaken by the news. While she hadn't said anything, as I watched her in the rear view mirror play with our son Dillon, I could see the nervousness in her smile and hear it in her laugh.

"Hey," I said cheerfully. "You guys want to go and get some sundaes or something?"

"Yeah!" Dillon replied instantly.

"I knew you would," I told him in the mirror. "What about you, Mama?"

Michelle considered for a moment but she answered. "That might be tasty."

"All righty then, sundaes it is then…" I turned my attention back to the road just in time to see some lady stumble out into my lane a mere car length away in front of my oh-five mustang.

Instinct took over as I cut the steering wheel hard to the left. In the back of my mind I was surprised how little the car protested against the sudden hard turn. In the more forward portion of my mind I was thankful there wasn't any oncoming traffic. In the back seat I heard my wife cry out as the psycho lady made a grab for the car as we went by.

Behind us I heard a horn suddenly sound. As I crammed on the brakes, I looked in the mirror and saw that a guy in an older model Honda wasn't as lucky as I had been. The Honda's tires screamed in protest as the brakes tried to bring the car to a halt. But it didn't help. The car plowed into the lady, sending her face first into the windshield and then up and over the car's roof finally rolling of the trunk and onto the street out of my line of sight.

When my mustang finally came to a stop I threw the shifter into Park and flung open the door. "Call 911 and stay here," I told my wife as I hurriedly took off my seat belt and jumped out of the car. Slamming the door shut I took off running back towards the Honda.

As I reached the car the driver hurriedly climbed out. He was an older man with salt and peppered hair and the beer belly common to so many middle aged men in this area. "I didn't even see her until she was right there!" Together we hurried around to the back side of the guy's car. The lady was lying face down on the pavement, her mouse brown hair fanning out to prevent us from seeing her features. Which I was actually thankful for considering the pool of blood that slowly spreading out away from her head.

"Think she's okay?" Mr. Honda asked.

Kneeling down next to the woman's still form, I regarded her for a moment before answering. "I really sort of doubt it."

Hearing a vehicle behind me, I looked over my shoulder and saw a Dodge truck coming to stop a short distance away. A guy who looked about my age and wearing scrubs jumped out, and started jogging in our direction. "Everyone okay?" he called out.

"She was hit by a car," I stated and rose to my feet. Taking a step back and out of Scrubs way, I watched as he immediately took my spot and put two fingers to the lady's neck.

"Are you a doctor?" the Honda driver asked.

"Nurse," Scrubs replied simply. Removing his hand from the lady's neck, he continued with, "I got no pulse. Help me roll her over."

Kneeling back down, I grabbed on her hip and pant leg as Scrubs grabbed onto her shoulder with one hand and moved to cradle her head with the other. "Okay, on three. One… two… three." Working together we gently rolled the lady onto her back. Looking towards her face, I immediately wished I hadn't when my eyes fell on the broken and bloody remints of her visage. Snapping my eyes shut, and turning my head away, I felt a wave of relief when I heard Scrubs say, "Step back please."

Getting to my feet, I turned away and took a few steps away. Behind me I could hear the nurse counting to himself as he more than likely started compressing the woman's chest.

Turning back around, I saw that Mr. Honda was pacing back and forth and running his fingers through his hair. Behind him there was also a line of cars starting to line up on the other side of my mustang. Taking the long way around the car, (Yes, it was an effort to avoid the sight of the woman lying on the ground) I walked up behind the guy and forced him to stop when he turned to face me. "What's your name?"

It seemed to take a sec for the question to sink in, "Uh, Terry."

"Okay, Terry. Look we got cars backing up let's get them moving again."

"Uh… yeah… sure." Dropping his hands to his sides slowly turned to regard the line of cars now forming in both directions.

"Let me back my car up, then we'll start letting them though five at a time. Okay?" I waited for Terry to nod his head before I started to turn back in the direction of my car. My turn wasn't even completed, I heard Scrubs let out a cry of surprise and panic.

Wheeling around, I realized that I couldn't see anything due to the car obstructing my view. Once again Terry and I rushed to the back to find Scrubs desperately pushing on the lady's chest. But this time he wasn't trying to restart her heart. This time he was trying to keep away from him. The woman, who had had no pulse just a minute before, was now very lively. Her hands were attached firmly to the man's head, one in his hair and the other on his ear, and she was trying to pull herself up to Scrub's face. The sound of her teeth clapping together as she snapped her jaws and the growling noises she made echoed in my ears as I watched in horror.

"Help me," Scrubs cried.

Not knowing what else to do, I ran forward and kicked the woman as hard as I could in the side of the face. When the hardened toe of my black boot connected, I heard and felt (or at least thought I did) her cheek bone break. Now not to sound like I'm boasting, but I workout every morning, bouncing back and forth between '_P90X_' and '_Insanity_'. I only say this because I know I have at least some strength in me and was taken completely off guard when my kick did absolutely nothing to faze the woman.

Before I could ready for another kick, Scrubs ear suddenly pulled free from his head taking a large patch of skin from the side of his face with it. His cries for help elevated to shrieks pain and for a moment his efforts to keep the woman away ceased as he fell to the side. Rolling with her one time helper, the lady got on top of the man and sank her teeth in the side of the hand that the man had used to cover the bloody hole where his ear had been.

Taking a step back in horror, something unexpectedly stopped my foot and dropped me hard to the pavement. Whipping my head to the side, I realized that I had tripped over the Honda driver's leg who was spread eagled on the street next to me, apparently passed out. Hearing the nurses screams turn wet, I looked back to see blood rhythmically spraying up from the hole the lady had just bit into his neck.

Unable to take any more of what I was seeing, I began to scramble to my feet. My movement must have got woman's attention, because I heard her growl and saw a grasping hand reach for me in the corner of my eye. Dancing back a few steps, I thought about making a break for it but caught sight of the Honda driver passed out in the street. For a brief moment I thought of trying to pull him along with me but quickly discarded that idea as the woman began to quickly crawl in my direction seeming to ignore the unconscious man.

Hearing people scream on either side of me along with the sounds of cars powering away, the sense of self-preservation became overpowering as I realized help wouldn't be coming. I bolted to the side as the woman lunged for my legs and felt her fingers bush my right leg. Sprinting back to my car, I tugged the door open and leapt inside.

"What's happening?" my wife asked. I ignored her.

Panting with fear as I put the car in the 'D' position, I smashed the gas to the floor. The mustang's eight cylinder motor roared through the aftermarket exhaust. The car's traction control system struggled to keep the rear tires from spinning, as we started to move.

Looking in the review mirror, I saw the woman grab onto the vehicle's spoiler with one hand. I'll give the woman this much, she was nothing if not determined. She held onto the rear of the car for a few seconds until we took a twenty-five mile per hour corner at nearly fifty. I glanced back just in time to see her sail off into the ditch on the side of the street.

We were about a mile down the road before I finally took my foot off the gas. Looking at Michelle in the mirror, I asked, "Did you call the cops?"

"Yes."

Shaking my head slowly, I said, "Call them again and tell them to look for that lady in the ditch."


	2. Chapter 2

The cops never did come by to pick me up. Or even take a statement for that matter. Guess they had other things to do. That evening I heard sirens going back and forth along the highway a few blocks from my house.

That night sleep was restless at best. Normally I can't remember all of my dreams. Most of the time all I get are bits and pieces. Just enough to know if it was a good or bad dream. I remembered enough to know that all the dreams I had were universally bad. That woman's smashed and disfigured face haunted me. And so did the nurse's screams of pain and fright.

I woke up later that morning and had to rush to get ready for work. Jumping out of bed, I brushed my teeth, threw on my work clothes and was out the door in a little more than ten minutes. Stepping into my father-in-law's WS6 Trans Am that I was borrowing, I fired up the engine, pushed in the clutch and slipped the shifter into first. Heading off down the road, I turned on the radio and surprised to hear a news report instead of the usual morning mix.

"A state of emergency has been declared for much of U.S. People are being urged to stay in their homes for the next few days. National Guard forces are being deployed and most of nation's service personal abroad is being disengaged from around the world and recalled as quickly as possible…"

Turning the radio off, I seriously considered turning around and going back home. Then again, with Prime Wheel there is no reason not to come into work as far as management is concerned. "_Prime Wheel is your obligation. Everything else is a personal problem_." True story, I actually heard that said once.

A few miles out from work, I was only going _slightly_ over the 45 M.P.H. speed limit. Watching the sides of the road in this area was very important since deer were known to jump out in front of cars all the time in the area. There was also a bicycle trail that cut through the forest.

Just before I arrived at the mouth of trail an older man came running out into the road in front of me waving an arm frantically over his head. Quickly hitting the brakes and engaging the clutch, the car quickly came to a stop. Although I was still forced to get into the other lane to avoid having a new hood ornament.

The first thing that caught my eye was large, bloody circle on his left shoulder. My mind flashed back to the crazy lady in the road yesterday, and I very nearly got moving again. But the desperate look on the man's face as he ran up to the car door made me think twice.

"Please! Please you have to help me!" The man rapidly patted on the window with the palm of his hand. Reaching over, I unlock the door and the man quickly pulled it open and all but jumped in the seat. "Hurry! Get going before that guy catches us." Not really wanting to find out who he was talking about I got the car moving.

About a mile down the road, I asked, "What happened?"

The older man closed his eyes and took a steadying breath before he answered. "I was jogging down that trail when out of nowhere some guy tackled me from the side. He knocked me to the ground and fell on top of me and bit me on the shoulder."

"He bit you?" Again memories from the day before came to the surface, but I quickly pushed them back down.

"Yeah. The crazy bastard tried to take a chunk out of me." In the corner of my eye I could see him pulling open the collar of his shirt presumably to get a better look at the wound.

"There should be a towel in the back." I motioned with my thumb for emphasis. "We should get you to the hospital." When he turned and reached into the back seat, his wounded shoulder was in full view. There was a good sized hole in his shirt which revealed the ragged bite mark. Reaching into a pocket on the front of my shirt, I pulled out my cell phone and offered it to the man. "Do you want to call the cops?"

After quickly wrapping the towel around his shoulder (sort of), the man took the phone from me and flipped it open. As he tapped out 911, he said, "Thank you so much for stopping. I'm Herald by the way."

"Danny," I replied quickly as he lifted the phone to his ear.

Herald sat unmoving with the phone pressed to his ear. Finally he snapped the phoned shut and placed it in the cup holder between us. Placing a hand on his wounded shoulder, he leaned his head back against the seat's headrest. "Busy signal," he stated slowly. Hissing through his teeth, he continued with, "My shoulder feels like it on fire."

"Well that did look pretty nasty."

Shaking his head, Herald said, "Not burns as in it hurts. I mean it feels like there is a fire spreading out from my shoulder." Not liking what I was hearing, the drone of the engine got a little louder as my foot pressed harder on the gas pedal. As the car's speedometer climbed, I started thinking of the quickest way to the hospital.

As we slowly approached Washington Regional's off ramp it was plain to see that there was no getting close to the facility. The police had set up roadblocks and looked to be turning most people away. Some were being taken out of cars and led to some large tents raised in the parking lot surrounding the building. As I gazed on those tents for some reason I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Pulling up to the roadblock I noticed immediately that it wasn't the police who were running the show. The two men walking up to either side of the car were wearing military fatigues, body armor, gas masks, and packing M4s. Quickly taking the car out of gear, I set the emergency brake and made sure both hands were on the steering wheel.

"What's your purpose here," the soldiers muffled voice demanded.

"Some guy bit…" Herald started saying, but before he could finish the soldier on his side was already opening the car door and haling him out.

"Sir, are you wounded?" There was no concern in the soldier's voice as he stared at me, only grim determination as his hand was already moving to the door's latch.

"N-no," I stammered. "I was on my way to work and saw Herald…"

The soldier cut me off with, "Sir, you need to leave this area immediately."

Feeling truly lost, I asked, "What's going on? Why are you guys here?"

Instead of answering my question, he stepped back from my car started motioning for me to move along. "Sir, we are advising everyone to return to their homes and stay indoors." The matter apparently settled, he started moving to the car behind me.

Not knowing what else to do I looked around for Herald as I released the car's E-brake and pushed the shifted into first. Unable to see him, I silently wished him luck and started forward. Another soldier pointed me onto a nearby onramp and back onto the highway.

From its place in the cup holder, my phone started buzzing, demanding my attention. Picking it up and flipping it open revealed a text from one of my co-workers. _Not many people showed up. Someone died and they're canceling production and sending us home._ Snapping the phone, my mind raced trying to fathom the latest development.

_Prime Wheel canceling production. The world must be ending._


End file.
